


Pumpkin Slime

by ABrighterDarkness



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Cute Kids, First Meetings, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27150706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABrighterDarkness/pseuds/ABrighterDarkness
Summary: “Hi,” she chirped distractedly.  Her brows furrowed in a way that emphasized the worried pout on her expression. The girl, seemingly without thought, reached up, her small hand curling around his fingers even as she stretched up onto her tiptoes and craned her neck to scan the busy orchard.Sam frowned and took a moment to steal his own glance at his surroundings in an attempt to find one or both of the girl’s parents.  When his search came up unsuccessful, he crouched down again, bringing himself down enough to match her level but carefully not dislodging her hold on his hand. “Where’s your parents?”The girl looked back at him and gave a shrug, “I don’t know.  Daddy’s big though.  I’ll find him.”
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson
Comments: 21
Kudos: 100
Collections: Marvel Fans 4 BLM





	Pumpkin Slime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Corsets_and_Cardigans](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corsets_and_Cardigans/gifts).



> This fic was written for Marvel Fans for BLM and for my winning bidder Corsets_and_Cardigans. I was prompted to write a Fall-based meet cute and I truly hope that you enjoy it, lovely!! <3 <3

Between continuing his work with the VA and the constantly revolving schedule of missions that seemed to take him to all corners of the globe, he really didn’t have many opportunities to come back to ground, so to speak. So much of his time seemed to circulate around going where he was directed to go, doing what he was told to do, and being the single-faceted being that he was expected to be. 

It was exhausting. It wasn’t the sort of exhaustion that could be eased by a good night’s sleep, though at that point, even that would go a long way. But it was more like a bone and soul-deep weary exhaustion. He was starting to pour from the near-empty cup, and while he would keep pushing, keep giving his best for as long as it was required, there wasn’t much left there for him to give. 

So when he managed to cobble together a few days off the roster, Sam had jumped at the chance. Hopefully nothing would pop up as a world-ending scenario and cut those days short, but even a little time was better than nothing. Just a little time to  _ breathe _ and just be  _ Sam. _

On impulse, he took off a few hours out of the city where he knew that a large but locally owned orchard and pumpkin patch would be hosting their annual festival. It was a place that Sam made a point to go every year whenever he could manage; he had even convinced Clint and Natasha to go with him a couple of times. He hadn’t managed to get there the previous year, but Sam had been gratified to see that it was as enthusiastically busy as he remembered it being. 

Individuals, couples, and families with both younger and older kids wandered through the patch in the distance and the various stalls set up with a wide variety of seasonal items for sale. The typical and somewhat cliche seasonal decorations of hay bales, dried out corn stalks, and scarecrows were scattered throughout the grounds while the sheer multitude of colors of the changing leaves set the stage. The warming smells of cinnamon, cloves, and apples seemed to counter the slight chill that had started to set in just the week before, but clearly had done little to deter the masses from putting in a showing. 

There was a reason this had always been Sam’s favorite time of year. Sure, all of the seasons had their shine but autumn was nothing short of pure, comforting vibrancy.

And while, technically, he was off the clock, Sam couldn’t bring himself to mind when one kid or another spotted him and dragged their parents over to eagerly--or shyly--greet him. He wasn’t sure exactly how but the kids always recognized him. If he was honest, if a few minutes of his day made theirs? It was a few minutes worth spending.

Sam pushed himself out of the crouch he had knelt into in order to greet the young boy that had stopped with his parents. He absently dusted his hands off on his jeans and took stock of the moving crowd. Being late morning, it was already more densely packed than it had been the few hours prior when Sam had initially arrived. He was grateful that it was the sort of event that was held outside rather than indoors -the open-air nature made the crowds a bit more bearable.

Movement from the corner of his eye startled him slightly, and Sam looked down. A young girl, maybe seven or eight if he had to guess, with a neatly braided pair of bright blond pigtails and wide brown eyes stood quietly next to him. Sam had no idea where the girl had come from, she certainly hadn’t been beside him when he had sent the little boy off with his family. 

“Hello,” he said cautiously.

“Hi,” she chirped distractedly. Her brows furrowed in a way that emphasized the worried pout on her expression. The girl, seemingly without thought, reached up, her small hand curling around his fingers even as she stretched up onto her tiptoes and craned her neck to scan the busy orchard.

Sam frowned and took a moment to steal his own glance at his surroundings in an attempt to find one or both of the girl’s parents. When his search came up unsuccessful, he crouched down again, bringing himself down enough to match her level but carefully not dislodging her hold on his hand. “Where’s your parents?”

The girl looked back at him and gave a shrug, “I don’t know. Daddy’s big though. I’ll find him.”

“What’s your name, kiddo?” Sam asked gently.

“Kinsey Margret Rogers,” she said, enunciating carefully. 

“Well, Miss Kinsey,” Sam said. “I’m Sam Wilson.”

“I know that,” she said with a small frown and a side-eyed look that told Sam that she thought he was being silly.

Sam ducked his head briefly to hide his huff of surprised laughter. “Oh you do, do you?”

“Yep,” she said, turning her attention back to scanning the crowd, the vast majority of which might as well have been a brick wall for as well as they could see through it at that height. “Daddy told me that if I got lost, I had to find someone that works here and they would help me. You don’t work here, but you’re Captain America. That’s even  _ better _ than someone that works here.”

“Well, then, I’ll tell you what,” Sam smiled. “Hang with me and we’ll get you back to your Dad. Do you know his phone number? I could give his phone a call, let him know that you’re safe and where to find you. I bet he’s real worried about you.”

Kinsey stared at him almost suspiciously for a long moment and then her shoulders drooped and she nodded in agreement. Sam shifted in his crouch, quickly digging his phone from his pocket. When he gave her a nod, her expression took on an intently focused look and she carefully recited the full phone number, one number at a time in a way that indicated the practice had been well drilled into her little mind.

“Okay, what’s your dad’s name, sweetheart?” Sam asked.

“Steve Rogers,” she responded with the same practiced tone. 

“Steve Rogers, got it,” he said with a reassuring smile. Without rising from his crouch, Sam thumbed the call button and immediately raised the phone to his ear. While the call rang through, Sam took a brief moment to appreciate how well Steve Rogers had coached his daughter for these types of scenarios.

Unfortunately, the call rang through only to be picked up by the automated voicemail message. Sam didn’t let his concern show on his face, instead he disconnected and called the number a second time. If Steve was looking for Kinsey, answering his phone was likely low on his list of priorities.

The call connected and Sam was immediately greeted with a gruff, winded sounding, “Steve Rogers.”

“Steve, hi,” Sam responded, automatically shifting into the steady tone of voice he generally adopted for trying to calm panicked civilians caught in the middle of one Avengers standoff or another. “My name is Sam Wilson and I’ve got your daughter Kinsey here with me. She’s safe. Said she got separated from you. I offered to give you a call. We’re by those weird wooden paintings with the cutout faces for pictures.”

“Oh thank god,” Steve groaned on the other end of the line. “Thank you, I’m on my way. Do you mind--?”

“Here, let me put you on speaker and you can talk to her,” Sam offered immediately. He pulled the phone away and switched it over.

“Kinsey?”

“Hi Daddy,” Kinsey chirped happily. 

“Are you alright?” Steve asked gently.

“Yeah,” she said, nodding her head and her braids bouncing with her movements. “I did what you said.”

“Yes you did. You did real good, Kinsey,” Steve said softly. “Stay where you are, bug. I’ll be there in just a few minutes, alright?”

“Okay,” Kinsey agreed easily, reaching over and poking the red button to disconnect the call.

Sam slowly shook his head at the action, keeping the phone in hand in case her dad decided to call right back. 

“My daddy says that we can eat the seeds when we’re done with carving up the pumpkin,” Kinsey suddenly said, expression far more open and eager than it had been previously. “But I think that he should eat the seeds and let me have the slime. Do you like pumpkin slime, Sam?”

“Pumpkin slime?” Sam repeated, uncertain if he sounded as confused as he absolutely was.

“Yeah,” she said slowly, her expression twisting into an amusing look of condensation that only kids that young seemed to pull off. “The slimy stuff that you gotta scoop out of the pumpkin before you can carve it up.” 

Sam huffed a small laugh when “duh” seemed to lace the small girl’s tone and expression but just barely managed to avoid being outright said. “I dunno,” Sam grinned. “Think I’m going to have to agree with your dad on this one.”

Kinsey’s nose crinkled at his words but then her eyes widened and she grinned brightly, “Daddy!”

Sam looked up just in time to catch a wall of broad shoulders brush past him and scoop the girl up high. He pushed himself back to his feet, taking a step back to keep from crowding. 

Kinsey was quickly checked over to ensure that she was actually safe and whole all while being held in a tight hug that had her giggling. Steve kissed the girl’s cheek and shifted her until he could carry her on his hip as though she was half her age, not that Sam was going to judge the man. He didn’t imagine Steve was in any hurry to let Kinsey down after having already lost her to the crowd once.

Sam realized during those few distracted moments that his first impression--a wall of broad shoulders--was definitely the best way to describe Kinsey’s dad. He wasn’t sure what it was that Steve Rogers did for a living, but it was perfectly obvious that Kinsey’s slight weight wasn’t any sort of burden for the man to carry around. 

Once Kinsey was settled, Steve turned his attention in Sam’s direction. His eyes--Sam noted that Kinsey must have gotten the brown from her mother, Steve’s were definitely very blue--widened slightly in surprise and the wide, relieved smile that he had given his daughter dropped into something considerably shyer. Accompanied by a noticeable flush, of all things, sweeping over his face. The man extended his hand and Sam reached out to return the greeting. 

“Steve Rogers,” Steve introduced himself quietly but politely. “Thank you.”

“Sam Wilson,” Sam returned. “Not a problem, just glad we got that sorted and she’s safe.”

“Daddy,” Kinsey said, poking her dad insistently in the chest.

“Yes, bug?” Steve answered expectantly.

“Sam doesn’t like pumpkin slime either,” she pouted as though Sam’s lack of interest in pumpkin innards was a personal offense. 

“I like the rest of the pumpkin though,” Sam said with a smile for the girl. “Especially in pies.”

“Do you carve up faces and stuff too?” Kinsey asked eagerly.

“Sometimes,” Sam nodded.

“Daddy makes pretty pictures in ours,” Kinsey said and then scowled. “He  _ never _ does faces.”

“What?” Sam said in mock-outrage, pinning Steve with a narrow-eyed glare earning an eye roll and a huff of laughter from the man. “You never do faces? What’s wrong with you, Dad? Jack o’Lanterns always need faces.”

“I  _ told _ you!” Kinsey grinned victoriously, swinging her feet excitedly.

“Kinsey, if you kick me, I’m dragging out the carrier from the car,” Steve warned, smirking when she pouted but went still in his hold. “I thought you liked our pumpkins.”

“But they’re not supposed to be  _ pretty,  _ Daddy,” Kinsey sighed dramatically, once again Sam was impressed with the girl’s ability to infuse the ‘duh’ in her words without having to say it. Steve laughed and shook his head but didn’t bother giving the girl anymore leverage to work with. “Are we still gonna pick our pumpkins?” She asked a moment later.

“That’s what we came for,” Steve reminded her.

Kinsey beamed and squirmed excitedly before quickly falling still again at her dad’s look of warning. She looked back to Sam expectantly. “Can you come with us? It’s a whole lot of fun and Daddy can carry the  _ big _ ones, too.”

Steve winced apologetically, another blush rising over his face. “Kinsey,” he sighed.

“Please, Daddy?” Kinsey whined with a wide-eyed pout that Sam had to give Steve props for being able to deny that girl anything. 

Steve adjusted the girl’s weight slightly and shrugged, the shyness returning when he met Sam’s eye again. “You’re-uh-welcome to. Join us, if you want, that is,” he offered hesitantly. “I know you’ve probably got your own stuff going on, but I’d like to at least thank you for looking out for her.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that. I’m just glad I was able to help and that she’s safe,” Sam said seriously. Steve shrugged slightly, attention seeming to linger on Sam before he ducked his head and cleared his throat. Sam considered his options briefly before adding with a small grin, “But I wouldn’t say no to one of those hot ciders.”

Steve glanced back up in surprise before chuckling softly. “I think I can manage that. What do you think, Kins? Should we go get some cider and warm up before we hit the patch?”

Kinsey looked like she was considering the idea for a moment before frowning. “Can I just have juice?” She asked. 

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” Steve agreed, adjusting his grip on the girl, lowering her until her feet were on the ground again. She immediately darted in between them, catching each of their hands in one of hers and attempting to drag them both toward the vendor stalls.

Before long, all three of them had cups in hand--Kinsey’s with a lid and straw, just to be safe--and an impromptu lunch from the same vendor and settled at one of the many picnic tables scattered throughout the grounds. The girl chattered eagerly, drifting from topic to topic with no real discernible pattern. From the apple juice that Steve had gotten her, she had switched to her school and her friends only to suddenly shift to pumpkin slime and something about her ponies? Sam did his best to keep up but that little girl was a tough act to follow, talking a mile a minute the way she did. 

He studied Steve briefly from the corner of his eye. Suddenly, the idea that Kinsey might have some sort of horse or pony at home wasn’t quite that hard to believe. The man sure looked like he was capable of pulling the workload that taking care of that sort of animal would require. Sam found himself undeniably curious about Steve and Kinsey Rogers.

“So, what is it you do when you’re not chasing this one around?” Sam asked curiously when Kinsey had gotten bored of talking to them. She had quickly distracted herself by chatting cheerfully, if not loudly, with another little girl sitting a table away.

“I teach,” Steve said with a small smile. “Middle school, now.”

“Wow,” Sam blinked. “That’s a tough age to work with sometimes, isn’t it?”

“It can be,” Steve shrugged. “I work with the kids that have struggles anyway. Specialized learning plans and things like that. It’s got it’s own brand of challenges but I enjoy my work. They’re smart kids, they just need a little more time and patience. It’s given me a different perspective on how I interact with Kins, too.”

“You said you taught middle school  _ now,  _ what were you doing before that?” Sam asked.

To Sam’s surprise, Steve winced and his face turned pink. He hesitated before answering, looking over to make sure that Kinsey was still occupied before sighing. “I taught at a high school for a year before I got moved to the middle school across the district. Had a-uh-disagreement with the administration. They weren’t about to change and neither was I, so I moved on.”

“A disagreement, huh?” Sam said, smirking slightly. 

“I suppose that’s a polite way of describing what happened,” Steve admitted. “One of my kids was having some troubles with bullying. Harassment. You name it, these kids were doing it. The office said that there was nothing they could do and basically insinuated that the girl was a liar and that I should worry more about teaching and less about ‘indulging teenage drama’. I may have let them know, in no uncertain terms, exactly what I thought about that. More than once. Since I was  _ technically _ still in my probationary period, it was decided that I wasn’t a good fit for the school and it was in everyone’s best interest that I move on.”

“Knew you weren’t gonna back down,” Sam nodded. “Sounds like it didn’t make it too hard for you to settle into another position though? The new school’s better?”

“Much,” Steve nodded firmly. “Not to say that there’s not still bullying. That’s not something that’s ever going to go away entirely. But the way the school handles it when it does happen is definitely an improvement. Hated having to leave those kids without someone in their corner, but I didn’t really have much other choice at that point.”

“Daddy,” Kinsey interrupted, poking her dad’s shoulder insistently. “ _ Daddy.” _

“Yes, Kinsey?” Steve said and the poking stopped immediately following the stern note in his tone.

“Can we go pick out our pumpkins soon?” She asked, bouncing slightly in her seat.

“As soon as we’re finished here,” Steve answered. 

Kinsey sighed, flopping over into a lean against Steve’s shoulder. “But it’s taking  _ so long.” _

“I could eat a whole lot slower,” Steve smirked.

“Daddy,” she groaned, drawing out the word in top-notch dramatic exasperation. The girl huffed quietly but turned her eyes away from Steve and onto Sam. “Are you coming with us for pumpkins, too?”

“I think that’s up to your dad, kiddo,” Sam said with a smile. “I’m pretty sure he was hoping to spend some time with you today, you don’t need me trailing along getting in the way of that, do you?”

“You’re not in the way.” 

To Sam’s surprise, the response came from both Rogers’, very nearly in perfect sync. While Steve’s was kindly stated with an earnest firmness that Sam thought was meant to be reassuring, little Kinsey had put the ‘duh’ back in her tone. And, he noted immediately after, she looked undeniably smug that her dad seemed to agree with her.

“If you’re sure,” Sam said slowly. Not that he was complaining, not really. He wasn’t in any great hurry to wrap up his day or this odd, chance meeting. And yes, he was still curious.

“No pressure,” Steve assured him. “I doubt anything like this was in your plans for the day. If you’ve got things you need to be doing or you’d rather not, don’t feel like we’re expecting anything. But if you want to head out to the patch with us, you’re more than welcome.”

“Actually, I didn’t really have anything particular in the plans for today,” Sam shrugged thoughtfully. “If you’re cool with it, then sure. Maybe I’ll find some weird shaped ones and sneak them into Stark’s lab.”

Steve jolted with a burst of surprise laughter, “Why would you sneak it into his lab?”

“Why not?” Sam grinned. “The man’s got a thing against pumpkins and pumpkin spice and all that sort of stuff.”

“So you stash actual pumpkins in his workspace?” Steve laughed.

“Either that or one of us convinces the AI to use a flavored coffee to see how long it takes him to notice,” Sam shrugged.

“Messing with a guy’s coffee, now  _ that’s _ just cruel, Sam,” Steve said with a mock-disappointed shake of his head.

“Oh he gives as good as he gets, believe me,” Sam waved off the comment with a grin. “It’s all in good fun. Tony Stark is perfectly capable of making sure that we have no access to his coffee or his lab if he really felt the need to keep us out.”

“Does your friend like pumpkin slime?” Kinsey interjected curiously.

Sam felt a slow grin work across his face as the girl’s question sparked ideas. While Sam certainly hadn’t been the one to  _ start _ the unspoken, team wide mischief--that would be Barton, for the record--he wasn’t about to be the first one to back down from it. Not after he ended up with a whole spoon full of salt in his coffee instead of sugar right before their last Op. 

“You know, I have no idea if he likes pumpkin slime or not,” Sam said thoughtfully. “I just might have to ask him when I get back to town.”

“I bet he doesn’t,” Kinsey said decisively with an eye roll. “Grown ups are boring and think it’s  _ gross.” _

That’s because it  _ is _ gross, Sam thought amusedly catching Steve’s eye when he hid his own chuckle behind the last of his cider. “How about we go find you some pumpkins then? You get your slime and your dad gets his seeds and pretty pictures.”

_ “Sam,” _ she groaned. “They’re not  _ supposed _ to be pretty, remember?”

“Does that mean we’re not coloring ponies anymore?” Steve asked her teasingly. “Or putting bows on Blue?”

“No,” Kinsey scowled. “Because ponies are supposed to be pretty. Pumpkins are supposed to be scary.”

“If you say so, sweetheart,” Steve conceded with a laugh, carefully standing and stepping over the bench of the picnic table. “Alright, patch-time it is.”

“Yes!” Kinsey cheered, scrambling after him. “C’mon Sam! We gotta get the good ones first!”

“And here I thought they were  _ all _ good ones,” Sam teased, following suit and getting up from the table. 

The girl huffed and Steve shot her a grin. “He’s got a point, Kins. They’ve all got seeds and slime, don’t they?”

“I guess,” she said, expression twisting into an amusing mixture of reluctant agreement and obvious distaste.

Kinsey was piled onto the offered hayride out to the patch along with a dozen other kids while Sam trailed along behind it with Steve and many of the other parents who hadn’t hopped on as well. 

“You sure you don’t mind me tagging along?” Sam asked, just to be sure.

“Not at all,” Steve assured him easily with a small smile. He stared at Sam for a moment before turning his eyes back to where Kinsey sat on the ride. “I’ve enjoyed your company. We both have. Definitely not any sort of hardship.”

“I missed last year’s,” Sam said thoughtfully. “Managed to get out here the three years before that. Had a couple days to sneak away.”

“Yeah, Kins and I try to come every year,” Steve agreed. “Sometimes we come in a big group with family and friends. Sometimes just the two of us.”

Sam was a little surprised how easily conversation flowed causally and comfortably between them as they followed behind the hayride. When it finally came to a stop at the edge of the patch, Steve moved forward to help Kinsey down while Sam stayed back from the crowd of family members all trying to do the same thing.

As she had done before, Kinsey surged forward almost as soon as her feet were on the ground to snag both of their hands and pull them eagerly into the field. 

They had been wandering the field for a short while when Steve glanced behind them where Kinsey had fallen behind and sighed exasperatedly. His head hung for a moment before he turned back around fully. “Kinsey, what are you doing?” Steve asked, tone toeing the line of resigned.

Sam turned, following Steve’s gaze to find the girl kneeling on the ground with her small hands  _ inside _ one of the smaller pumpkins. Her eyes went wide as she looked up at her dad, lifting one hand, the stringy innards of the pumpkin clinging to and hanging from her fingers, out of the pumpkin. “Look, pumpkin slime!”

“Sweetie, you can’t just break into the pumpkins in the patch,” Steve said exasperatedly.

“I didn’t!” She insisted. “Sam stepped in it so it was already broken when I got here.”

Sam frowned and lifted his foot, shifting awkwardly to look at the sole. Sure enough, pumpkin guts. How the hell did he manage to step on a pumpkin without realizing it? Without thinking about it, he quickly lowered his foot and scraped the bottom of his shoe in the dirt to get it off. Sam could absolutely admit that he did  _ not _ get the girl’s fascination with the stuff. He glanced back up at Steve who seemed to be trying to stare a hole in the ground in a very obvious attempt not to laugh.

“Shut up,” Sam grumbled, though he knew smiling kinda ended any sort of chance of playing it seriously.

“I didn’t say a thing,” Steve denied with a smirk, no longer bothering to hide his amusement once he’d been caught.

“You didn’t have to,” Sam retorted. 

Steve grinned, the earlier shyness having faded somewhere along the line. “Come on, Kinsey, otherwise I get to pick out your pumpkin too.”

“No!” Kinsey yelped, scrambling to her feet and rushing to catch up with them. She immediately latched onto both of their hands again. Sam wasn’t at all surprised when he caught Steve’s grimace that he knew matched his own at the sticky, slimy coating on the girl’s hands from playing in the pumpkin.

“It could be worse, I guess,” Steve said, forcing his grimace into a wry smile.

Sam considered the various substances that he had found himself covered in while on the field and had to agree. That didn’t make it feel any less gross, though. But at least pumpkin innards don’t generally require decontamination units unless they're the mutated type. Thankfully, the pumpkins in this patch were just the everyday generic pumpkins. That didn’t stop him from having to force back a cringe at the squelching sound when Kinsey reflexively tightened her grip on his hand. 

Unsurprisingly, she was entirely unphased. Instead, she was happily content to chat away almost impossibly fast, going into great detail about exactly what it was she wanted her pumpkin-find to be. Steve shot him a grin of resigned amusement and shrugged as they were tugged along by the overeager girl.

“What about you?” Steve asked curiously. “What do you do when you’re not stopping alien invasions and sneaking your unsuspecting teammates pumpkin flavored coffee?”

Sam carefully stepped over a mess of tangled vines before looking at Steve over Kinsey’s head. “I volunteer at the VA. The system has its problems and plenty of them, but the folks there helped me out when I got back. I figure the least I can do is pay it forward with others struggling with coming back home.”

Steve nodded, his hand tightening and lifting Kinsey easily when she tripped, helping her to catch her balance without missing a beat. “My best friend’s going through all that now. Dealing with the VA and readjusting to being back home. He’s said about the same things. Lot of problems but some of the folks there make it less painful at times.”

“Yeah, coming home’s a rough ride,” Sam agreed. “But it’s a whole lot rougher trying to do it on your own and I kinda like to think it’s our responsibility to look out for each other, however that might look like.”

“It’s good that there’s people like you willing to reach out,” Steve said quietly. “Then again,” he added consideringly. “I don’t suspect there’s a whole lot of people out there quite like you.”

“One of a kind,” Sam quipped. 

Steve eyed him for a moment before tilting his head slightly with a small smile. “Somehow, I don’t doubt that."

Between them, Kinsey kept a sharp eye out for her pumpkin and it was only minutes later when she squealed excitedly, immediately dropping her hold on their hands and bolting a few yards ahead. Sam watched as she carefully circled one pumpkin in particular, eyeing it from every possible angle before beaming back at her dad.

“This one!” She insisted excitedly, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Can I get this one?”

“Are you sure that’s the one you want?” Steve asked. “Once we pull it up, there’s no changing your mind.”

“I won’t,” Kinsey swore.

“Remember, Kins, we’re not going to be carving these until after you get back home from Mom’s,” Steve reminded gently.

“I know,” Kinsey huffed. “I think we’re painting the ones at Mommy’s.”

“I think you’re right,” Steve agreed with a smile. “Probably not as soon as you get there though.”

“I  _ know, _ Dad,” Kinsey said again with extreme exasperation.

“Alright, alright,” Steve laughed and knelt next to Kinsey to pull her selected pumpkin from the vine. He carefully balanced it before turning back to Sam. “Your turn next.”

“My turn?” Sam blinked. “I wasn’t really planning on getting pumpkins for real.”

“But  _ everyone _ gets a pumpkin!” Kinsey protested in confusion.

Steve smiled sheepishly. “It’s kind of our thing. Everyone who comes out with us picks a pumpkin, even if that means Kins and I end up bringing the majority home with us. It makes it fun.”

“And maybe Daddy’ll let you come carve them up with us!” Kinsey added eagerly.

“Maybe,” Steve agreed easily.

“Alright, fair enough. How about you help me find a good one, Kinsey?” Sam suggested, holding his hand out toward her in offer. She moved quickly, latching onto his hand again. 

%

Steve carried Kinsey’s slumped weight without care. The poor girl’s seemingly unending energy had started to wane about an hour after Steve had hauled their pumpkins back to their car. First her bouncing steps slowed to a walk, then she had asked her dad for a piggyback ride. Steve had smirked but agreed easily. Within minutes, Steve was carefully shifting the sleeping girl around to carry her against his chest.

“Oh, kiddo, getting a bit big to be carried around like that,” Steve teased affectionately as he adjusted his hold to support her better. Despite the words, he seemed perfectly content. “Pegs says I spoil her,” he told Sam with a slight grin. Kinsey slept soundly, feet bouncing slightly with each of Steve’s steps as he and Sam walked through the festival vendors. “Carrying her around like this. I figure that she’s only going to be this small for a short while.”

“That’s her mom?” Sam asked.

“Yeah,” Steve nodded. “We’ve co-parented from day one. It’s worked out well for all of us, I think.”

“It’s good that you guys can get along well enough for that,” Sam said. “Not a lot of folks can.”

“I’ve seen a lot of that with my kids at school,” Steve agreed. “Peggy’s still one of my dearest friends. Always will be. Her husband and I get along great. Their boys come over to mine some weekends, and some days after school if they need extra help. My spare room is theirs in practice. There’s the occasional hiccup, things we disagree on, but I think that’s true for just about any family.”

“That’s pretty amazing,” Sam mused. “Families are hard work, but you seem to have it all figured out.”

“We try,” Steve grinned.

“And succeed, from the sounds of it,” Sam pointed out.

“Most days, yes,” Steve managed to shrug without dislodging Kinsey’s nap. 

“You said that she’s going with her mom for a couple days?”

“Yeah,” Steve confirmed. “I’ll be dropping her off after we leave here and she’ll be back home on Monday morning. Schools are out on Monday, figure that we’ll do our pumpkins then.”

“Suppose it’s nice, having a couple days of quiet,” Sam speculated.

“Productive at least,” Steve chuckled. “The living room stays clean for longer than five minutes at a time. But I think I’d take the mess, if I had to choose.” He visibly hesitated for a moment, using the pause to adjust his hold on Kinsey. “I don’t-uh-I don’t know what your schedule might look like tomorrow. But. I won’t have Kins and...I’d like to see you again? Grab a bite or something. If you’re not busy. If you wanted?”

Sam glanced over in time to watch another one of those blushes sweep over the man’s ears and face as he spoke. Steve avoided his eyes for a brief moment before his curiosity seemed to get the better of him and he glanced over hesitantly. Sam felt himself grin slightly at the stumbling and faltering words and eyed Steve for a moment as he briefly considered the question. 

“I’ve got nothing in the plans tomorrow unless aliens come knocking,” Sam answered the jumbled question a beat later. 

Steve smiled again, his relief nearly palpable, though it was hard to tell if the relief was due to Sam’s easy acceptance, or the simple lack of rejection. Sam noticed that, despite his nerves and the inelegant way the question was asked, Steve had worded it very carefully. It could be taken just as easily as a casual, friendly hang out as it could be a date. The frequent glances and blushing--and, admittedly his own curious interest--had Sam leaning towards “date”.

He had to admit that he was all for it.

“I should get her to her mom,” Steve said reluctantly a few moments later. “But I’ll-uh-I’ll text you? Or you can. We’ll text?"

“Either works for me. Just tell me when and where for tomorrow,” Sam agreed. “Miss Sunshine there made sure we have phone numbers already.”

“Yeah,” Steve said with a quiet laugh. “I know I already said it, but thank you again for that. For looking out for her and helping get her back to me. I’m glad she went to you when she was lost and I’m glad you agreed to spend your day with us.”

“Me too,” Sam smiled. “And you’re welcome. She’s a sweetheart.”

“She’s a good kid,” Steve nodded, his arms tightening around her limp form slightly. He shifted his weight when they came to a stop at the edge of the open grassy area that served as the parking lot. There was an odd intensity in the way that Steve seemed to study him then. Whatever it was, Steve didn’t put it into words just then. Instead, he hesitated a moment and gave a smile that was almost as shy as that very first one had been. “See you tomorrow, Sam.”

“See you tomorrow, Steve. Looking forward to it,” Sam replied.

* * *

Steve carefully covered the entire surface of his kitchen table with a layer of newspaper, attaching the overlapping edges with small strips of tape to keep them in place. When he was satisfied that none of Kinsey’s slime was likely to make it onto the table top, he hefted their pumpkins on top and pre-staged pencils, a couple of Sharpies, and the collection of pumpkin carving tools that he had accumulated over the years in the middle. Then came the two bowls, one for the seeds once they were separated and another for Kinsey’s slime.

“Is it time yet?” Kinsey asked, bouncing excitedly in her chair as she watched him get everything placed.

“Not yet,” Steve smirked. He busied himself arranging the various tools until his phone buzzed in his pocket. He kept his movements and expression casual and neutral as he shot off a response. 

A few moments later there was a knock at the door.

“You want to get that for me, Kins?” Steve asked lightly, glancing up at her.

“I’m not supposed to answer the door,” Kinsey frowned even as she bolted from her chair.

Blue nearly knocked over the chair in her eagerness as she out from under the table to take off after Kinsey. Her curled tail wagging excitedly and the bright orange bow attached to her collar, with its little plastic spider glued to the knot, bouncing as she went. Steve laughed to himself as he watched them go. Blue had taken to following Kinsey around almost as soon as they’d brought her home. The tiny girl had gained a shadow as well as a friend in the equally small puppy. And that hadn’t changed as they’d both gotten older, if Kinsey was home, it was expected that Blue wouldn’t be very far behind. 

Steve heard Kinsey turn the lock on the door and pull it open. “Sam! Dad! Daddy! Sam’s here! Sam, are you going to carve pumpkins with us?! Daddy’s trying to do pretty ones again.”

The door slammed shut and Steve sighed. Eventually, he was sure that she would learn how to close doors without slamming them. But it hadn’t happened yet. 

“Pretty ones again, huh?” Sam’s voice carried through to the kitchen, even over Blue’s excited, yipping attempts to add her two cents to the conversation. 

“Yeah,” Kinsey said, tone stressed with her obvious affront. “He wants to make  _ all _ of them pretty.”

“We’re not gonna let that happen, are we?” Sam responded and Steve could easily hear the grin in his voice. “Did you get to paint scary ones with your brothers?”

“Mine is scary,” Kinsey said proudly, her voice drawing nearer to the kitchen as they approached. “They both did handprint ghosts ‘cause it was more fun to paint their hands but I didn’t want to.”

Steve glanced up with an amused grin when Kinsey bounced back into the room, small hand wrapped tightly around Sam’s and all but dragging him into the room. Blue danced eagerly around them, sticking her nose excitedly into Sam’s hand that Kinsey hadn’t claimed. 

“Hey,” Sam greeted, returning the grin easily.

“Hey,” Steve returned, knowing his voice clearly showed his excitement but couldn't care in the least. 

After they had finally left the orchard and parted ways, Steve had to force himself not to be too weird and shoot off a text message right away. He had taken Kinsey to Peggy and even stayed and visited with the family for a little while. Kinsey had excitedly recounted the entire day at least twice before Steve had left. Peggy had laughed and grinned knowingly at him on his way out. 

Steve managed to reign in his eagerness until he had gotten back home before his resolve cracked and he sent a message to the number that Sam had called from. Of all the people Kinsey could have chosen to go to for help when she got lost, Steve had to admit that he was grateful that she had gone to Sam Wilson for a multitude of reasons. But Sam had responded back just moments later and the conversation had stretched nearly non-stop after the first few. They met at a small, tucked away Italian place, fairly lowkey and comfortable. 

Sam had come back here afterwards. So there was that.

Steve cleared his throat and forced himself back to the present. “Ready to tackle some pumpkins?”

“Sam, sit here by me,” Kinsey interjected, tugging the same chair that Blue had nearly knocked over out from under the table. “We can do the scary pumpkins here and Dad, you can do your pretty pumpkin over there.”

“Looks like we’ve got our marching orders,” Steve laughed and easily conceded, moving around the table and tugging one of the large pumpkins to him. 

“Looks like,” Sam agreed with a grin. He gave Blue’s side a pat to satisfy her demands for attention before shrugging off his jacket and draping it over the back of the chair that Kinsey had designated. He carefully nudged the chair off to the side rather than sitting. 

The next hour was spent cutting open the tops of the pumpkins and cleaning them out. Kinsey got the task of separating the seeds from the innards. With Blue curled back under the table and Kinsey fully occupied with her slime, Sam and Steve were able to converse with minimal interruptions. When the pumpkins were clean and the bulk of the seeds had been picked out of Kinsey’s slime, Steve carried the bowl to the sink, giving them a thorough rinse and then setting them to soak. 

From the short distance, Steve caught Kinsey tugging on Sam’s sleeve with a sticky orange hand until he leaned down to where she could speak in his ear, though not nearly as quietly as Steve was sure she thought she was. “I like you, Sam.”

“I like you too, Kinsey,” Sam responded with a small but seemingly genuine smile.

“My daddy likes you, too. Not like he likes Uncle Bucky or my other dad. He always turns pink around you. Mommy made fun of him for it,” Kinsey added. Steve felt his face heat at the would-be whispered comment.

Sam grinned slow and slyly, glancing over at Steve for a moment. “Oh he does, does he?” Sam asked sotto voice, turning back to Kinsey. 

“Uh huh,” she said with a sneaky grin. “I told her we met you at the pumpkin patch and you don’t like slime either and Daddy turned pink. Mommy started laughing like it was really, really funny,” Kinsey frowned slightly in confusion. “Then she told Daddy to have fun on his date. Did you go on a date with my Dad?”

“I did,” Sam admitted easily.

“Oh,” Kinsey blinked. And then she grinned, “Does that mean you like my dad, too?” 

“That’s exactly what it means, Sunshine,” Sam said, nudging her lightly with his arm. “What do you think I should do about that Miss Kinsey?” 

“You should kiss him,” she said decisively. “That’s what grown ups are supposed to do when they like someone.”

It’s odd, the things that tend to come falling out of kids’ mouths; that little declaration was no different and Steve had to force down a startled laugh. He grabbed the towel hanging over the oven handle and dried his hands as he made his way back to the table. Sam was smirking at him as he approached, his eyes bright with amusement combined with a hint of challenge.

Well, how was Steve supposed to back down from that? Not that he particularly wanted to. 

He kept his steps even and forced-casual until he came to a stop right in front of Sam. Steve didn’t hesitate in leaning in and kissing Sam sweetly. Steve could feel the way that Sam’s lips curved from the smirk into a grin against his own just as he could feel the warm hands settle at his waist. 

A surprisingly quiet but entirely enthusiastic “Yes!” from Kinsey drew a laugh from both of them as they broke apart. Steve pressed another kiss to the side of Sam’s head before pulling back further. 

“How about we finish up with these pumpkins and then call out for pizza?” He suggested.

“Yeah, you get on over there with your pretty pumpkins,” Sam teased, shoving at Steve’s shoulder playfully. “Kinsey and I’ll show you how Halloween pumpkins are  _ supposed _ to look. Isn’t that right, Kinsey?”

“Yes!” Kinsey agreed, bouncing excitedly again. “They’ll have  _ faces _ on them.”

“Oh, that’s how it is, huh?” Steve laughed as he made his way back to his own pumpkin.

“That’s how it is,” Sam grinned. “Prepare to be terrified.”

“You know what? You’re on,” Steve retorted. “I can make a scary pumpkin.”

“Uh huh. Come on, Kinsey, let’s show your dad what we’ve got,” Sam said to the girl as they set to work on the pumpkin sitting on the table in front of her.

Carving pumpkins was certainly different that year compared to the previous. The affectionate, good-natured competition paved the way for banter and laughter. And more than a few more stolen kisses. 

Steve could admit that he hadn’t won the competition based on scariness but, as far as the night as a whole? He’d hit the jackpot.


End file.
